To the one reading this. I don’t think I have anything special to share. But here goes. It might not look like it, but you matter to me. There’s a good chance I remember the last time we talked, the last time we had fun together, and the last time you hurt me, or I hurt you, whichever is more frequent. Truth to be told, I don’t even know myself why I care. But that does not matter. What does is that I do. I care about you. Every single one of you.
For the critics, the skeptics, the doubters and the nay-sayers, I can do nothing to convince you. I admit that. You may stop reading now, if you haven’t yet. That is fine. Criticism is healthy in a discourse, whatever the context. Also, if at any point you get bored, you may stop and forget what might have been a wasted five minutes of your life. But it’s important for me. This is MY stream of consciousness; god knows I am tired of analyzing other ones.
Right now the lights just went out. Kind of anti-climactic. I’m feeling upbeat for the first time in months. Don’t know what it is, but I have something worthwhile living for. I’m trying to figure out what that is. Perhaps it is your smile that greets me every day after I do my best to be with you. Most definitely. There’s always math, and walking together. The music playing in my ears right now also helps. Everything helps.
I have never really believed in god. But there are some moments which I am so thankful for that I can’t help but imagine if he really is there. What would I say to him? Is he even a him? I would not know, and truth to be told, I don’t want to find out. Some mysteries are merited in life. This is one of them. However, for now at least, I am a resolute atheist.
Right now, I’m thinking about the millions that lost their lives in World War Two. Why did that conflict have to take place? The idealist inside me yearns to know how humans were so stupid and ill-considering. Why were they so short-sighted, jingoistic and downright brutal? The pragmatist inside me tells me that this conflict was always inevitable. Upon further inquiry, I don’t think this matters. Not as much as the pain and suffering humanity went through in those miserable 6 years. I don’t think we will ever bounce back fully from that. The world will never be the same.
It is like my paining back. It hurts while it happens, and after its ended, I am thankful it stopped because I don’t think I could bear the pain anymore. However, it always comes back. That is what I’m most worried about. A re-lapse. A new Hitler. A new Mussolini. A new Tojo. Who’ll save us now? Even the heroes of World War Two, Churchill, Stalin and Roosevelt were far from ideal – Churchill was an open racist, Stalin a brutal mass murderer and Roosevelt removed the Japanese-Americans without due process in court. There are always blotches in everybody’s character.
I think what is most important is knowing which blotches are more profound, and which ones can be excused. Not everyone is perfect. Everyone has their own story. Perhaps Churchill was a mere product of his time. Perhaps Stalin was merely perpetuating his own childhood in his rule over Mother Russia. Perhaps Roosevelt suffered from a lack of trust. We need to put all options on the table. However, their actions were inexcusable. We must consider that while forming opinions on people of history.
Why am I saying this? Because this applies just as well to the living as with the dead. I’m talking about myself, forgive the vanity. I have done something bad to you, I know that. You might not know it, not remember it, or think it outrageous that I would do something bad, but I have. I know I have. And when you form your opinion of me, remember what history has taught us about character, and blotches. Judge me for my blotches. Then after that perhaps you could try to understand my actions. Why I did what I did. That’s important to me. Because I like to think of myself as a work in progress.
It is raining outside. And while I think of that, I remember how disorganized this piece of writing has become. But I don’t care. Do you? I know you don’t. Because if you’ve stuck out this far, you love me.
Feynman has been really important to me. He was a brilliant original thinker, full of fun tales that you could learn a helluva lot from (this particular spelling of hell of a is from “A catcher in the rye” I recommend it very much). What’s so magical about these tales you say? Imagine how J.J. Thomson felt when he discovered the electron. Imagine how Ernest Rutherford felt after conducting the Alpha-particle experiment. Puzzled, intrigued, excited, stupefied and elated all at once perhaps? Feynman did that with almost every sentence.
Right now I’m re-reading what I wrote. Does it make sense? I don’t know what you might think. But it does to me. This is my life, all the time, everywhere. This is what I think about. This is my brain in action. Just a tiny picture though. I’m not even hyper-active right now! Trust me, I don’t need marijuana to get high, or alcohol to get drunk. I just need a time and a place. The universe conspires in my favor in this regard. I have abundant time and abundant space.
Finally, all I would like to say to you reading this is, embrace this part of me! I don’t know if others are the same, or if others are like me, but I know I’m like this. And I think I’m proud of myself that way. I’ll always be there for those who need me. I’m a vast repertoire of jokes. Trust me, some of these jokes are corny as fuck. And I swear a lot, although I have refrained from that here. This is a very cheesy way to end, but, au revoir. Thank you for being here.
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